Just One Date
Book One of the Billionaire Barons of Texas Series
Chapter One
"Our grandfather, a man richer than Bezos, offered to pay for the wedding, and the future Mrs. Andrew Mason told him no?" Chase James Baron, head of Baron Enterprises and confirmed bachelor, tipped his brandy snifter at his sister Eve. "The more I learn about Nancy, the more I like her."
As far as their grandfather, a former Marine turned politician, was currently concerned, each of his grandchildren should have six children – just as he and his wife of sixty years had done. Andrew’s mother, Amanda Baron Mason, was the youngest and closest in age to Chase’s father, Bradley Baron. Bradley had garnered his father’s approval by marrying young, and well, although he only had five children, instead of the expected six. Unfortunately for Bradley, divorcing Chase’s mother and working his way through three more wives had not gone over nearly as well with the proud former governor. Even if the unions had added two more grandchildren to the fold.
Now their grandfather was clearly tiring of waiting for his grandchildren to continue the tradition of having a large family. So far, much to former Governor James Earnest Baron’s chagrin, every last one of his progeny was woefully behind the curve in finding a spouse and increasing the troops – his loving reference to his family. Except for Andrew, who had been caught and reeled in by his new bride-to-be.
Andrew and Nancy’s nuptials had brought Chase to Galveston in preparation of the first, long-awaited, wedding of his generation. He and his siblings, Craig, Mitch and Eve were waiting for their brother Kyle onboard his yacht—a favorite family gathering spot—to leave for a quiet sail along the Gulf coast before the upcoming festivities, and ensuing chaos began.
"You're going to love Nancy," his sister Eve said with a smile. "Smart and sassy. Perfect for Andrew. Even though the Governor grumbles about her stubbornness—often—I think he really likes her."
"If it means finally having a great-grandchild, I think he'd let Lucrezia Borgia into the fold." Chase would have laughed at his own joke if he didn't think it held a grain of truth. "At least Andrew and Nancy will take the pressure off the rest of us grandchildren to breed."
Eve almost snorted her brandy. "What planet are you living on? If anything it's made the Governor more determined to increase the family troops. Oh, wait. That's right. You hide out in your Dallas man cave. Sleep, eat, and breathe Baron Enterprises. I must say, moving the operations to the downtown high rise, including a penthouse apartment, made for an affordable commute. You never even have to leave the building. Ever."
"Now you sound like the old man." Ten years ago when Chase had first come up with the mixed-use plans for the new headquarters, his grandfather had been delighted with the idea. Chase and his cousin Devlin, founder of one of the largest commercial real estate firms in the country, had worked out every detail before presenting it to their grandfather. That had been long before the patriarch had become obsessed with seeing his grandchildren procreate.
"Never gonna meet a good woman if you live behind that desk. Balance, boy. Balance," Chase mimicked his grandfather.
"You can take the man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of the man. Push, push, push." Eve tipped her head back and blew out a sigh. "Did you hear what he did to Craig?"
"At Mitch’s fund-raiser last month?"
Eve nodded. "Craig made the mistake of telling the Governor that he was going stag to our dear brother the senator's event."
"Craig runs a major production company. Surely an up-and-coming actress would have been more than happy to have her photos splattered across every media outlet under the sun at a ten-thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner for the senate's golden boy."
"I don't think any of us realized the Governor has upped the ante. If we can't find our own dates, he'll find someone for us."
"And that is exactly why I am bringing my own date.” Chase pushed to his feet and crossed the lounge of his brother's yacht to refill his drink. One of the stuffiest families on the social registry, the Van Kleins had married off all their children but one. And from his limited interactions with Gwyneth, her spinsterhood was for good reason. “I can’t help but wonder, what was the Governor thinking, sticking Craig all night with Gwyneth Van Klein?"
Eve raised a single brow at her eldest brother, then shook her head. "The usual. Good stock. Wide hips. I swear, in this day and age, the old man still thinks of women as brood mares. He probably has Gwyneth's dental records."
"I'd be more worried that he probably has yours." Kyle, the missing sibling, came through the doorway. "Sorry I'm late. My meeting ran long. I see you've already helped yourself to refreshments."
"We skipped the lemonade and went straight for the hard stuff." Eve smiled up at him.
"My Napoleon brandy." Kyle laughed. "Rough week?"
"The Governor gave me a lecture on my biological clock yesterday. And the day before—"
"And this morning," Kyle added, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Sorry, sis."
"I'm used to it. It's not like I don't want to meet a nice guy, but it's not easy when your last name is Baron."
Unfortunately, Chase knew exactly what she meant. Having a family fortune prominently reported for all to see, the Baron name was a golden ticket for swindlers and fortune hunters. He'd been there, done that, even bought the wardrobe. Which is why he'd decided, before ever setting foot near Galveston for his cousin’s wedding, to preempt the former Governor’s unwanted efforts to find his offspring suitable mates. Chase might not run a major film production company, but he'd seen Pretty Woman. While he wasn't stupid enough to hire a hooker to appease his grandfather's matchmaking attempts, Chase wasn't beyond hiring a good actress to redirect their grandfather’s attention elsewhere.
The plan had merit. Strictly business. No emotions. No gold diggers. And best of all, no complications.
* * *
"You’re getting paid to spend the next seven days with a man?" C. J. Lawson's head was ready to explode from her sister's latest crazy plan.
"Yes and no." Bev shrugged.
C.J. glared at her younger sister the same way she'd stare down a raw recruit and then drew upon years of military discipline not to scream in Bev's face. "You do realize those answers do not go together."
"Yes, for five thousand dollars now and five thousand at the end of the week, I'm being paid to spend one week with Chase Baron but no not "with" with him."
"Do you know where you're staying?"
"Galveston."
C.J. refrained from rolling her eyes at her Pollyanna-like sister. "In a hotel?"
Nibbling on her lower lip, Bev hesitated a few minutes. "Maybe. He might have mentioned a boat."
"Okay." Who would have thought dealing with boots fresh off the bus would be easier than shaking some sense into her starry-eyed sister? "Maybe in a hotel, or a boat, but definitely in separate rooms?"
"Oh." Bev stopped tossing clothes into her suitcase. "I didn't ask."
Oh, brother. Never before had C.J. wished so hard that Bev had gotten a few less beauty genes and just a teensy-weensy bit more of the brains in the family. At five foot five and 110 pounds, with a twenty-four inch waist, and blue eyes the shade of an azure crayon, Bev conjured images of Marilyn Monroe, Judy Holiday, and a long list of talented women who got more from sex appeal than smarts. "How could you not ask about sleeping arrangements?"
"Because, for ten thousand dollars, I don't really care if he puts me on the roof."
"Or in his bed?"
Sweater in hand, Bev froze and looked up at her sister. "That wasn't part of the negotiations."
All set to ask “What negotiations?” since her sister didn't seem to have any answers other than a 10K salary in a one-week time frame, and something about fooling an old man, C.J.’s mind suddenly registered that Bev held a sweater. "Why are you packing cold-weather clothes for Galveston?"
"Oh, well, that's what I was getting around to explaining."
That pixie twinkle in Bev's eye was never a good sign. As a kid it could have meant anything from teaching the unwilling cat how to swim, to homemade hair dye. Neither of which had produced stellar results. "Then explain. Again."
"Okay." Bev flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and sucked in a deep breath. "Chase's cousin is getting married in eight days. It's a big family wedding. All the siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles will be there. Even his mom, who is practically a hermit somewhere in Europe, is crossing the pond for her favorite nephew’s wedding."
C.J. bobbed her head, encouraging her sister to get to whatever part of this plan she hadn't already heard.
"So Chase has this grandfather."
"Yes," C.J. quipped a bit impatiently. "You've mentioned that before. He wants to see all his grandchildren married. I got that part."
"Well, the Governor—"
"Governor?"
"That's the grandfather. Former governor of Texas, though I think it was a lot of years ago, and before that he was a Marine."
"Is," C.J. said without thinking.
"Oh, yeah." Bev sighed and echoed with her sister, "Once a Marine, always a Marine."
"Right." C.J. nodded again, sorry she'd derailed her sister's story.
"To avoid the grandfather harassing and annoying and prodding and matchmaking and creating family drama at his cousin's wedding, I've been hired to be his date. Like Pretty Woman."
"You do remember she was a hooker?"
"Julia Roberts?"
Lord, C.J. loved her sister. Really she did. But the girl had tested C.J.’s patience from the day their parents had brought Bev home from the hospital. "Vivian—the character in the movie—Vivian was a hooker."
"Oh, yeah. Whatever. He offered me 10K to be his date." Bev stopped and, biting on her lower lip again, raised her gaze to the ceiling in thought. "Maybe it was girlfriend." Smiling, she bobbed her head. "That was it. His girlfriend for a week."
"Girlfriend." C.J. could hear the whine in her voice. She hated people who whined. "And you didn't ask about sleeping arrangements?" Why couldn't Bev be something normal, like a manicurist or receptionist? Why an actress? "Never mind. Can we get back to the clothes?"
"Oh. Right." Bev perked up. "This morning I got a call from my friend Gloria. You remember Gloria?"
C.J. nodded. She had no clue who the heck Gloria was, but C.J. had no intention of letting this conversation go down another rabbit hole.
"Gloria got a small part in John Cipro's new movie. It's a minor character, but they need a lot of extras because they're filming out in the middle of nowhere, and she got me on the list of extras! If they like me, I might even get to say something." Bev practically jumped in place with glee.
"At least that's a legitimate gig. When does filming start?"
"Monday."
"This Monday?" Now C.J. was really confused.
"Yes. In Canada, where it's cold."
At least that explained the sweater. "So, why are we having this conversation, if you're not taking the job in Galveston?"
"Because you are."
"Our grandfather, a man richer than Bezos, offered to pay for the wedding, and the future Mrs. Andrew Mason told him no?" Chase James Baron, head of Baron Enterprises and confirmed bachelor, tipped his brandy snifter at his sister Eve. "The more I learn about Nancy, the more I like her."
As far as their grandfather, a former Marine turned politician, was currently concerned, each of his grandchildren should have six children – just as he and his wife of sixty years had done. Andrew’s mother, Amanda Baron Mason, was the youngest and closest in age to Chase’s father, Bradley Baron. Bradley had garnered his father’s approval by marrying young, and well, although he only had five children, instead of the expected six. Unfortunately for Bradley, divorcing Chase’s mother and working his way through three more wives had not gone over nearly as well with the proud former governor. Even if the unions had added two more grandchildren to the fold.
Now their grandfather was clearly tiring of waiting for his grandchildren to continue the tradition of having a large family. So far, much to former Governor James Earnest Baron’s chagrin, every last one of his progeny was woefully behind the curve in finding a spouse and increasing the troops – his loving reference to his family. Except for Andrew, who had been caught and reeled in by his new bride-to-be.
Andrew and Nancy’s nuptials had brought Chase to Galveston in preparation of the first, long-awaited, wedding of his generation. He and his siblings, Craig, Mitch and Eve were waiting for their brother Kyle onboard his yacht—a favorite family gathering spot—to leave for a quiet sail along the Gulf coast before the upcoming festivities, and ensuing chaos began.
"You're going to love Nancy," his sister Eve said with a smile. "Smart and sassy. Perfect for Andrew. Even though the Governor grumbles about her stubbornness—often—I think he really likes her."
"If it means finally having a great-grandchild, I think he'd let Lucrezia Borgia into the fold." Chase would have laughed at his own joke if he didn't think it held a grain of truth. "At least Andrew and Nancy will take the pressure off the rest of us grandchildren to breed."
Eve almost snorted her brandy. "What planet are you living on? If anything it's made the Governor more determined to increase the family troops. Oh, wait. That's right. You hide out in your Dallas man cave. Sleep, eat, and breathe Baron Enterprises. I must say, moving the operations to the downtown high rise, including a penthouse apartment, made for an affordable commute. You never even have to leave the building. Ever."
"Now you sound like the old man." Ten years ago when Chase had first come up with the mixed-use plans for the new headquarters, his grandfather had been delighted with the idea. Chase and his cousin Devlin, founder of one of the largest commercial real estate firms in the country, had worked out every detail before presenting it to their grandfather. That had been long before the patriarch had become obsessed with seeing his grandchildren procreate.
"Never gonna meet a good woman if you live behind that desk. Balance, boy. Balance," Chase mimicked his grandfather.
"You can take the man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of the man. Push, push, push." Eve tipped her head back and blew out a sigh. "Did you hear what he did to Craig?"
"At Mitch’s fund-raiser last month?"
Eve nodded. "Craig made the mistake of telling the Governor that he was going stag to our dear brother the senator's event."
"Craig runs a major production company. Surely an up-and-coming actress would have been more than happy to have her photos splattered across every media outlet under the sun at a ten-thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner for the senate's golden boy."
"I don't think any of us realized the Governor has upped the ante. If we can't find our own dates, he'll find someone for us."
"And that is exactly why I am bringing my own date.” Chase pushed to his feet and crossed the lounge of his brother's yacht to refill his drink. One of the stuffiest families on the social registry, the Van Kleins had married off all their children but one. And from his limited interactions with Gwyneth, her spinsterhood was for good reason. “I can’t help but wonder, what was the Governor thinking, sticking Craig all night with Gwyneth Van Klein?"
Eve raised a single brow at her eldest brother, then shook her head. "The usual. Good stock. Wide hips. I swear, in this day and age, the old man still thinks of women as brood mares. He probably has Gwyneth's dental records."
"I'd be more worried that he probably has yours." Kyle, the missing sibling, came through the doorway. "Sorry I'm late. My meeting ran long. I see you've already helped yourself to refreshments."
"We skipped the lemonade and went straight for the hard stuff." Eve smiled up at him.
"My Napoleon brandy." Kyle laughed. "Rough week?"
"The Governor gave me a lecture on my biological clock yesterday. And the day before—"
"And this morning," Kyle added, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Sorry, sis."
"I'm used to it. It's not like I don't want to meet a nice guy, but it's not easy when your last name is Baron."
Unfortunately, Chase knew exactly what she meant. Having a family fortune prominently reported for all to see, the Baron name was a golden ticket for swindlers and fortune hunters. He'd been there, done that, even bought the wardrobe. Which is why he'd decided, before ever setting foot near Galveston for his cousin’s wedding, to preempt the former Governor’s unwanted efforts to find his offspring suitable mates. Chase might not run a major film production company, but he'd seen Pretty Woman. While he wasn't stupid enough to hire a hooker to appease his grandfather's matchmaking attempts, Chase wasn't beyond hiring a good actress to redirect their grandfather’s attention elsewhere.
The plan had merit. Strictly business. No emotions. No gold diggers. And best of all, no complications.
* * *
"You’re getting paid to spend the next seven days with a man?" C. J. Lawson's head was ready to explode from her sister's latest crazy plan.
"Yes and no." Bev shrugged.
C.J. glared at her younger sister the same way she'd stare down a raw recruit and then drew upon years of military discipline not to scream in Bev's face. "You do realize those answers do not go together."
"Yes, for five thousand dollars now and five thousand at the end of the week, I'm being paid to spend one week with Chase Baron but no not "with" with him."
"Do you know where you're staying?"
"Galveston."
C.J. refrained from rolling her eyes at her Pollyanna-like sister. "In a hotel?"
Nibbling on her lower lip, Bev hesitated a few minutes. "Maybe. He might have mentioned a boat."
"Okay." Who would have thought dealing with boots fresh off the bus would be easier than shaking some sense into her starry-eyed sister? "Maybe in a hotel, or a boat, but definitely in separate rooms?"
"Oh." Bev stopped tossing clothes into her suitcase. "I didn't ask."
Oh, brother. Never before had C.J. wished so hard that Bev had gotten a few less beauty genes and just a teensy-weensy bit more of the brains in the family. At five foot five and 110 pounds, with a twenty-four inch waist, and blue eyes the shade of an azure crayon, Bev conjured images of Marilyn Monroe, Judy Holiday, and a long list of talented women who got more from sex appeal than smarts. "How could you not ask about sleeping arrangements?"
"Because, for ten thousand dollars, I don't really care if he puts me on the roof."
"Or in his bed?"
Sweater in hand, Bev froze and looked up at her sister. "That wasn't part of the negotiations."
All set to ask “What negotiations?” since her sister didn't seem to have any answers other than a 10K salary in a one-week time frame, and something about fooling an old man, C.J.’s mind suddenly registered that Bev held a sweater. "Why are you packing cold-weather clothes for Galveston?"
"Oh, well, that's what I was getting around to explaining."
That pixie twinkle in Bev's eye was never a good sign. As a kid it could have meant anything from teaching the unwilling cat how to swim, to homemade hair dye. Neither of which had produced stellar results. "Then explain. Again."
"Okay." Bev flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and sucked in a deep breath. "Chase's cousin is getting married in eight days. It's a big family wedding. All the siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles will be there. Even his mom, who is practically a hermit somewhere in Europe, is crossing the pond for her favorite nephew’s wedding."
C.J. bobbed her head, encouraging her sister to get to whatever part of this plan she hadn't already heard.
"So Chase has this grandfather."
"Yes," C.J. quipped a bit impatiently. "You've mentioned that before. He wants to see all his grandchildren married. I got that part."
"Well, the Governor—"
"Governor?"
"That's the grandfather. Former governor of Texas, though I think it was a lot of years ago, and before that he was a Marine."
"Is," C.J. said without thinking.
"Oh, yeah." Bev sighed and echoed with her sister, "Once a Marine, always a Marine."
"Right." C.J. nodded again, sorry she'd derailed her sister's story.
"To avoid the grandfather harassing and annoying and prodding and matchmaking and creating family drama at his cousin's wedding, I've been hired to be his date. Like Pretty Woman."
"You do remember she was a hooker?"
"Julia Roberts?"
Lord, C.J. loved her sister. Really she did. But the girl had tested C.J.’s patience from the day their parents had brought Bev home from the hospital. "Vivian—the character in the movie—Vivian was a hooker."
"Oh, yeah. Whatever. He offered me 10K to be his date." Bev stopped and, biting on her lower lip again, raised her gaze to the ceiling in thought. "Maybe it was girlfriend." Smiling, she bobbed her head. "That was it. His girlfriend for a week."
"Girlfriend." C.J. could hear the whine in her voice. She hated people who whined. "And you didn't ask about sleeping arrangements?" Why couldn't Bev be something normal, like a manicurist or receptionist? Why an actress? "Never mind. Can we get back to the clothes?"
"Oh. Right." Bev perked up. "This morning I got a call from my friend Gloria. You remember Gloria?"
C.J. nodded. She had no clue who the heck Gloria was, but C.J. had no intention of letting this conversation go down another rabbit hole.
"Gloria got a small part in John Cipro's new movie. It's a minor character, but they need a lot of extras because they're filming out in the middle of nowhere, and she got me on the list of extras! If they like me, I might even get to say something." Bev practically jumped in place with glee.
"At least that's a legitimate gig. When does filming start?"
"Monday."
"This Monday?" Now C.J. was really confused.
"Yes. In Canada, where it's cold."
At least that explained the sweater. "So, why are we having this conversation, if you're not taking the job in Galveston?"
"Because you are."